The Society Pages
by AndThatWasEnough
Summary: The society pages the next day spoke almost exclusively of how Two-Bit Mathews had been seen gallivanting around town with the newly crowned prom queen. Everyone agreed that Miss Stevens looked dazzling in her pink formal, and could pull off a tiara. And no, we still don't know who slashed Steve Randle's tires. {It's prom night, 1968. One-Shot.}


**Author's Note: Wow, okay. What started out as a little coda to** ** _Don't Think Twice/Sins of the Saints_** **has once again grown to be several thousand words long. (Hey – gotta gear up again for bigger, longer projects ;) Again, perhaps a bit self-indulgent, but I'm a senior myself this year, so…yeah!**

 **Happy reading :)**

XXXXX

"There she is! Our prom queen. No after parties, your highness?"

Apparently, this was the first time in school history – that anyone could remember, that is – that the prom queen had come to the dance without a date. At least, that's what I'd been told. Numerous times. So I, Bridget Stevens, new-ish girl, had made school history. Two-Bit Mathews, who should have been my date but wasn't because "prom wasn't his _thing_ ", was waiting for me in the parking lot, at eleven-thirty at night. I hadn't even asked him to be here. I was just gonna hitch a ride home with Cherry, who had also come dateless – we'd come stag together. As soon as she'd seen _him_ , she gave me a knowing smile, sketched me a wave, and went off to her Stingray.

"Afraid not," I said as I approached him. He was just leaning up against his new (and suspiciously obtained) car – an Impala, hardtop, much to my dismay – looking just a bit out of place. I mean, I was dressed to the nines like everyone else, pink formal dress and tiara and everything. "Though I'm sure you'd be more willing to tag along to one of those than to the dance itself."

Two-Bit just grinned. Part of me wanted to smack that stupid, slow grin right off his face. And another part of me wanted to kiss him until my lips were swollen and numb. Maybe both were appropriate. "Aw, don't be like that. You know I…well – "

"You clean up nice," I cut in. "Ya know. I mean, I would've been honored."

Two-Bit playfully rolled his eyes. "And have to watch you dance with some other guy? No thanks. Who was it, anyways? Who won king?"

"George Washburn," I smirked. "I thought Vickie was going to have a cow when she heard his name called and then mine. Like I'd ever be interested in the likes of _him_." Which was true. George Washburn was handsome enough, but about as interesting as a cardboard box. But it was unfair to compare, you know? Because I may have been a bit irritated with him at the moment, but after Two-Bit Mathews…well. I'm not so sure anyone else can compare. What I used to find annoying about him I could now only find either endearing or amusing or…well, both.

"That so? Well. I'm glad to hear it," he said, pretending to be disinterested. But I could tell he really _was_ glad to hear it. "You really don't wanna go party or nothin'? I mean, c'mon, everyone wants to get a piece of the Queen Bee tonight." He smirked, because I guess he thought he was clever. He thinks everything that comes out of his mouth is simply the cleverest thing.

"Really," I shrugged. "I kinda wanna take these shoes off, though. Think we could arrange that?"

"Think we could." I was already one step ahead of him. The shoes were cute, but they were starting to pinch my toes, so off they came. I held them out to Two-Bit, and he threw them in the backseat of his car. "We should blow this joint. I'm thinkin' we should go find a place to park and make out," he said bluntly, nodding his head once. I rolled my eyes.

"Just because I don't want to go party doesn't mean I just want to go park somewhere and _make out,"_ I said disdainfully.

"You are _impossible_ to please, your highness."

"Are you gonna keep that 'your highness' crap up all night?"

He pretended to think about it. "Yes."

" _Ugh_. You're the impossible one!"

"Nah," he waved me off, "you're just irritable."

"Must be all the fumes from her hair."

Two-Bit thought that was funny. When I turned my head, I saw Steve Randle and Evie Martin walking towards us. Evie was lucky – she'd been able to rope Steve into coming to the dance with her. I hadn't been quite so successful in my persuasion, which was odd. I can usually get Two-Bit to give me whatever I want. That's probably not a good thing, and I _probably_ shouldn't be abusing that power, but sometimes a girl just really wants to see _this_ movie and not _that_ movie. We actually fight over what movie we're going to see a lot.

"Ha ha," I deadpanned. "Hi, Evie."

"Hey," she greeted, her voice silky smooth, like a purr. Evie and I had become friendlier – maybe even friends, now that I think about it – but I think I'll always be just a bit envious of how _confident_ she is. "Congratulations," she added with a nod towards my head. I self-consciously put my hand up to gently touch the crown I was wearing.

"Thank you," I said quietly.

"Heard that ice cream shop on the main drag is givin' out free shakes – "

"Sounds so _wholesome_ ," Two-Bit teased.

"…to anyone who shows their tickets," Steve finished. "Y'all wanna head over? You can follow us."

"Hey, I ain't got a ticket!"

"That's your own fault," I said, giving him a look. "You've got money – you could cough up a few cents, couldn't you?" I asked sweetly. Two-Bit cocked a cool eyebrow. Now, don't mistake this for fighting. He and I, we've fought. This was nothing. This was teasing.

"Thought you said you were done for the night."

"I didn't say that. I just said I didn't want to go to any parties, and I didn't wanna park anywhere."

Both Steve and Evie _oohed_ and jeered when I said that, and Two-Bit had the good sense to look a bit embarrassed, for my sake, but he was biting back a smile. I could tell with him. Nothing really got to him. "Sounds fine to me," Two-Bit shrugged. He nudged me. "When is your father expecting you home?"

"Oh, not until later than this."

"Then hop in, Honey Bee. The night is young!"

XXXXX

"You know," I began after we'd been driving for a while, "we've been dating almost a year now."

"I do know."

"Kinda crazy," I laughed. "It just sorta…went by. Didn't it?"

"I guess it did." Two-Bit pulled up against the curb. Parallel parked like a pro. I watched him while he did – he wasn't paying me any attention at the moment, but I couldn't take my eyes off him. Yes, it _had_ been nearly a year since we'd started dating. It almost didn't seem as if it could have been that long. I could barely remember the past year. I don't mean that in a bad way, but it seemed to fly by. I was different and the same. He looked a bit different. Hardly anyone looked the same as they had when I'd first gotten here. That's fine – I liked Two-Bit's hair long like it was now.

"I can't be that much to look at."

I was jolted from my thoughts; the sharp inhale practically hurt. Two-Bit smiled a little. He'd noticed me staring. I noticed that his eyes briefly glanced at the tiara on my head. The look he gave me afterwards wasn't near as simpering as Evie's was. He looked sorta…well, he looked tickled, I suppose, because it would probably be taking it a step too far to say he looked proud. "Yes you are," I said softly, almost reverent.

"Then you should take a picture."

"I have!"

Two-Bit snickered. "Too many. I oughta take one of you right now. You in that pink dress…" He leered. "You give a man the _dirtiest_ thoughts."

I blushed. "You ought to stop that right now."

"Oh? And why?" He teased.

He was tempting. Oh, he was tempting. And this was not the time nor the place, so I decided not to tug on that particular thread and said,

"Let's go inside."

Steve and Evie were already inside with a booth. In the bright light of the ice cream parlor, Two-Bit really stood out against us, with Steve in his dress pants and shirt, tie hanging around his neck, and Evie and I in our dresses. I was still barefoot. I was still wearing that crown on my head. A few people at a time would look my way, like I was _actual_ royalty, like they thought I couldn't notice them. I did, though, and I did and didn't mind the attention.

"Lookit you," Steve drawled. "You are a _sight_ in those boots and that hat. And my god, Mathews, it's nearly midnight! What's with the sunglasses?"

Two-Bit adjusted his ridiculous cowboy hat. "It's called fashion, Steve, look it up."

"Oh, I agree with Steve," Evie said. "We're all nice and cleaned up, and here you are lookin' like a dusted-up cowboy. Now, Bridget," Evie drawled, "you really wanna be seen around town with this joker?"

They all laughed. I didn't laugh, but I couldn't help but grin. The three of them – they were so bawdy, and I mean that in as nice a way possible. Two-Bit and his friends (because I wasn't sure if I could consider them mine yet) were always falling over each other laughing and all that. My friends and I (and Two-Bit and his friends certainly consider _my_ friends _theirs_ ), we had a lot of fun. We really did. Me and Cherry and Missy and Marcia…we understood each other. But we were all just very different people.

"Oh, you're so funny, Evie," I sighed, smirking at her. "A laff-riot. You and Steve both."

"Aw, they deserve each other," Two-Bit quipped, gesturing to the two of them with his cigarette. "They're the biggest sourpusses in town!"

"And what does that make the two of you?" Steve asked, getting in his face a little.

I knew he was kidding, but it was a fair question: what _did_ that make the two of us? We'd returned to school in the fall with a completely different regard for each other. I mean, a year ago, I had hated him. Now, everyone at school knows that we are together, the same way they had known when I was with Jerry Thompson. It's not something people bring up, it's not something people really talk about; it just _is_. I appreciate it being that way, I really do, because I don't really want people talking about us. Not in the whole, whispers-behind-the-back way. Neither of us want nor need the fuss. We just…are.

"Well, Steven, I think it makes me royalty of some sort, since she's Tulsa newest queen," he said, eyebrows raised in suggestion. Evie laughed, hand to her chest, and Steve just shook his head.

"Did you know that in England, if there's a king, his wife is the queen, but if there's a queen, her husband is just a prince?"

Steve shot Evie a disbelieving look. "That can't be true. Why would that be true?"

"Why _wouldn't_ it be? Look, there's _Queen_ Elizabeth and _Prince_ Phillip. See? And her father was _King_ George, and her mother was _Queen_ Elizabeth. So Two-Bit, if Bridget is queen, then you're some sort of prince."

Two-Bit sat back and considered it. He took off his sunglasses and crossed his arms over his chest, looking off into the distance, his face showing some sort of deliberation going on inside his head. I glanced at Evie, who just smirked and shrugged one shoulder. Steve looked like he'd had it up to here, but I'm sure he'd had more than his share of Two-Bit's antics; enough to last a lifetime.

"My only hesitation is that 'king don't sound near as…oh, what's the word…"

"Sissy?"

"Ah, yes, thank you, Steve. 'King' don't sound near as sissified as _'prince_ '. But," he shrugged, "I'll take what I can get."

"Well, we aren't married, so you don't have _anything_ ," I shot back, and Steve and Evie seemed to like that. Two-Bit just narrowed his eyes at me and shook his head.

"Wow. I give you _every_ thing – my attention, my time, my livelihood – and this is how you repay me. I see how this is. Oh, do I see how _this is_."

I was about to come back with another smart remark when there was some sort of commotion outside. The four of us glanced outside with disinterest at the crowd that had amassed, but when it seemed that nothing was really coming of it, we all went back to our conversation. A few people came up and congratulated me, and I would blush and smile and thank them while Two-Bit and Steve and Evie would watch on in amusement. Seems the universe got bored with that after a few minutes, however, because someone came barging in and asked,

"Whose hotrod's out on the curb?"

Steve grinned smugly. "Mine," he called back, holding up his hand so the guy could see him. We all knew how proud Steve was of that car. He'd done it up himself with a custom paint job and the nicest hubcaps he could lift. I guess it was a nice car, but I really wouldn't know about that sort of thing. I like my Beetle. And Two-Bit's Impala is fine, too, even if it's not a convertible.

"Man, you gotta get outside."

Steve looked confused. He followed the stranger and Two-Bit immediately stood so he could see out the window. He chuffed and ran a hand down his face, saying, "Oh _, god…._ "

"What? What is it?" I asked. Evie and I exchanged a look and craned to see what was going on outside the window. We heard an anguished cry.

Though his voice was muffled a bit through the glass, we could plainly hear Steve say, "Someone slashed my fuckin' tires!"

XXXXX

The four of us stood around Steve's car. He kicked at one of the dilapidated tires in dejection. We stood around the hotrod as if it were a fallen friend, which I'm sure it was, in Steve's case. I could almost hear the mournful wheeze of bagpipes in the distance. But it wasn't as if the car was ruined, no; just the tires. Though I'm sure that paying to replace them wasn't exactly an expense he was looking forward to.

"Well," Steve laughed bitterly, "that's just fuckin' _great._ "

"Steve – "

"No. No, no, Evie," Steve put a hand up, "no. You disrespect a man's ride, you disrespect him. I would know, I've stolen enough hubcaps to know what I meant by it. But slashin' a guy's tires…"

"Ain't cool," Two-Bit shook his head. "Ain't fuckin' cool." He eyed Steve. "Who d'ya think did it?"

Steve thought about it for a moment. "Well, never rule out the Shepard boys. I know Tim's at the track tonight."

"Wait – the _dog track?_ " I asked, but no one paid me any attention.

"Sounds good. Let's go." Two-Bit pulled his keys out of his pocket and started for the Impala, Steve right on his tail. "You ladies comin'?"

"I am," Evie said, and headed towards the car, too.

I was still standing, stupid and barefoot, when Two-Bit called, "Bridget, dahlin', you best get your pretty ass in this car, your highness. Right now." So I got my pretty ass in the car, with no small level of concern settling in my stomach.

I had a bad feeling that I was getting dragged along on one of Two-Bit and his buddies' _stupid_ escapades.

XXXXX

Two-Bit and his friends didn't exactly always participate in the most legal of activities. Or the most sanitary. Or the most safe. Or the most…well, they're not exactly the most wholesome of activities, but who am I to judge? Well, actually, I'm not sure my passing judgment on watching greyhounds chase a fake rabbit around a track for fun and monetary gain is really much of a character flaw on my part. It wasn't legal, it was kinda weird, but here I was, following my boyfriend into a goddamn greyhound racing track.

See? I told you. Stupid escapades.

"I'm going to stay right here," I said warily from my spot on the sidewalk. It seemed that the deeper you got, the worse it got. Smoke and grime and people laughing much too loudly. There was what I assumed to be a group of bookies hovering nearby. It was all very suspect. Two-Bit stopped for a moment, considered my bare feet, and shrugged.

"Fine by me. Don't talk to strangers."

I scowled. "Who are you, my father?"

"Nah," he smirked, "just a concerned boyfriend. Stay put! We'll be right back, see if we can't find Tim and his boys and get to the bottom of this."

Alright then. Pfft – Tim and his boys. How ridiculous was all of this? It was ridiculous. Maybe I should have gone with them. Sure, it was gross, but I bet it beat being alone…

"Well, don't you look like a fish outta water."

I turned around quickly, probably looking very scared. Some boy with dark hair and sharp eyes and a leather jacket was approaching me. I'd never seen him around before. He and I probably didn't run in the same circles – probably not even circles that were even parallel to each other.

"Maybe," I said, sounding small and tired.

The stranger chuckled. "Maybe? That's a laugh. Try _definitely_. Nice tiara," he said, nodding at the top of my head. I self-consciously ran my fingers over it.

"Thank you."

"Yeah, no problem, Queenie. That's what you are, right? The prom queen?"

He blew smoke in my face, and I cringed. "Yes. That's right."

"Congratulations," he drawled, putting his smoke back between his lips and eyeing me curiously, like he was trying to place me, even though I knew for a fact that we'd never met. His eyes were sharp, but the rest of him was wild, to his hair to his clothes to the snarl on his face, and as his eyes roamed, I could feel myself become more and more uncomfortable, and wishing I had chosen to tag along with everyone else. Why was I like this? Always holding back like this.

"Thank you," I whispered again. I eyed his cigarette as he took another puff. Even the way he smoked was suggestive, and his eyes…they reminded me of another certain hoodlum, one I had barely known and wanted desperately to forget.

"You ever smoked before, Queenie?" The guy asked. I shook my head, my hands resting over my nervous stomach. "Well, why don't'cha give it a try?"

"Oh, I'm alright, really. It's not good for your health, you know."

The guy took another drag off his cigarette, eyeing me up and down. I wasn't scared, but I was uncomfortable, which was about just as horrible a feeling. What a turn this night was taking! Just a few hours ago, I'd been crowned prom queen and was dancing with my friends. Now I was standing barefoot, crown still on, standing next to a guy I didn't know while I waited on my boyfriend, his friend, and his friend's girlfriend to finish tracking down Tim-and-the-boys and try to suss out who slashed Steve's tires. How do I get myself into these situations?

"Would you leave me alone if I tried it?" I asked weakly, wanting nothing more than for him to go away.

"Sure, doll face."

He passed me the cigarette. I knew it wasn't a joint. I'd smoked joints. Not many, but I had. It wasn't exactly something I'd told people I'd done, either, not many. But I _never_ smoked cigarettes. My father did. I didn't exactly like the smell. Though, when the smell of nicotine mixed with Two-Bit's cologne…nevermind. The guy watched as I put the cigarette to my lips, my hand shaking a bit, and took a puff. The smoke quickly filled my lungs, but I was able to suppress the worst of the coughing. The guy looked impressed, raising a cool eyebrow and _almost_ smirking.

"See? Ain't so bad."

I coughed a little and passed it back to him. I felt sick to my stomach, and my chest ached. "Not so bad. Will you leave me alone now?"

The corner of his mouth raised in some sort of smile/sneer hybrid, making his scarred cheek wrinkle. Two-Bit had a scar on his face, too, from some sort of gang fight. And across his knuckles. When he and I were together, my fingers would worry over them, even though there was nothing to do for them now. They would be there forever. Those scars made someone I knew to be genuine and giving and funny look something very close to frightening. Especially when he was in a bad mood. But this guy, he looked scary no matter what.

"Aw, c'mon, your highness. I ain't so bad. I'm sure we could get to know each other."

I felt like I already knew everything I needed to know about him. "That won't be necessary," I said, hoping the unspoken _In your dreams_ was clear.

"Hey! What the hell is this?" Ah, my knight in shining armor, and the rest of his trio of misfits. They had reappeared from the throng of people at the track. Two-Bit and Steve looked pissed as they approached me and this stranger, and Evie looked concerned. She stood right by me, in fact. Maybe she really did care about me. "Tim, what the fuck are you doin'?"

My eyes widened. " _You're_ Tim Shepard?"

I'd heard plenty of things about Tim Shepard over the past couple of years. I knew he was dangerous, knew he had a big bad reputation, knew he was some sort of gang leader. I knew about his siblings a little bit, too. And I'd just had a conversation with him! My lips had touched something _his_ lips had touched! I wanted to puke. Tim just looked smug.

"In the flesh. I see what this is," he drawled. "Nice to finally meet Tulsa's shiny new…ish socialite. My god, Mathews. Ace work. Bagged ya the prom queen."

"Shut up," Two-Bit snapped. "Do you know anything about who slashed Steve's tires?"

Tim went back to looking cool and guarded. "Someone slashed yer tires, Randle?"

Steve looked like he was about to go ballistic. _"Yeah_ , Tim. Someone slashed my tires. Would you happen to know who did it?" He asked, voice condescending. Tim looked unamused.

"Well, it sure as shit wasn't me. Been here all night. And before you go suggestin' it, I don't know if it was any of my guys. But I wouldn't blame 'em, considerin' the crowd you've been hangin' out with." He looked at me, eyes suddenly disapproving when just minutes ago they were roaming all over me.

"Shut up, Tim," Steve said softly. He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. He'd probably done that more out of consideration for Two-Bit than for me, but I still appreciated it.

"Get outta here," Tim snapped, and Two-Bit drew up to full height and looked about ready to start something, but Steve just grabbed him by the shoulder and Evie wrapped her arm through mine, and they led us back to the parking lot and the Impala.

"Well," Steve sighed, "that got us jack-all."

Two-Bit nudged me. "You okay?" He asked gently. I nodded.

"Fine."

"You sure? Cuz Tim – "

"I'm _fine_. Really." Then, as an afterthought, "I tried his cigarette."

Two-Bit raised his eyebrows and barked a laugh. "Really? You don't smoke!" He didn't sound happy. He didn't sound happy at all.

"One of those guys back there said he was nearby when it happened, though," Evie offered up.

"Yeah," Steve sighed. "Mathews, he said he might've head over to Clayton's place for that big bash he's throwin'."

"On the west side? Fantastic!" Two-Bit barked sarcastically. "So it was prolly some upper-class scumbag." I didn't say anything, but that comment left a sick feeling in my stomach. Well, it just made the already bad feeling in my stomach worse, actually. "Welp, let's head on over and try that, then."

Wait. We were going to head over? To one of those crazy after-parties? On _my_ side of town? Oh, _hell_ no.

XXXXX

"I don't like this."

" _Bridget…_ "

"I don't like this one bit," I said petulantly, crossing my arms across my chest. I know I sounded whiny and diva-ish, but here we were, the two of us now, parked in front of this house, waiting on Steve and Evie. They'd gone on inside. I'd refused to. Two-Bit had stayed behind to convince me, even though I knew he really wanted to be inside backing up his friend and helping him solve this, not dealing with me. "I don't want to go in there."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want to! Why don't you just go in there?"

"Because I don't wanna leave you alone out here!"

I turned in my seat to face him more fully, jumping down his throat, ready to fight. I wasn't ever ready to fight, not really. Except when it came to him. Him I'm always ready to fight with, which is odd, because I…well, I love him. "So you're admitting that it's dangerous?" I shouted. "You admit that it's not a good idea to go in there?"

" _No_ , I'm saying that it's not a good idea for you to be sitting alone out here! We don't know who's hangin' around here – "

"Then why are we here?" My voice sounded raw and whiny. "Why did you bring me here? Why didn't you listen to me when I told you – "

"I wasn't expecting for this to happen!"

"What made you think I'd want to spend any more time with these people? Hell, what made you think I even want to be with Steve and Evie? I've wanted to be with _you_ all night!"

Well, that shut him up. Two-Bit had one hand on the wheel, his right hand on the bench between us, and he looked like he wanted to say something. I mean, he always looks like he wants to say something, but at this moment in particular, I could see the gears grinding in his head. I didn't quite know what I expected his response to that statement to be. I mean, Keith Mathews really isn't the type to admit he was wrong, or break down, or apologize, or…I should stop myself before I get any madder.

"All night, huh?" He asked. I nodded. "All night. Well, that's…" He laughed, sounding bitter. "That's just great."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Two-Bit's eyes narrowed to slits. Thinking. "Do you not like bein' seen with me?"

"What? Keith - !"

"No, I'm serious," he said, "do you not like bein' seen with me? I mean, you walk into a _dog track_ with bare feet and that tiara on yer head, but suddenly when we cross over onto _your_ side of town, you won't budge. What's with that, huh? What's the story, morning glory?"

I crossed my arms tightly over my chest. I wanted to tell him that wasn't at all true, but there was a little part of me that was afraid I was lying to myself. Was I really embarrassed being seen with him? That couldn't be true; no, he and I were seen together all the time. All the time! Everywhere! Everyone at school knew what was up, they wouldn't just forget because we were at a party at some rich kid's house. Right? Or maybe they would choose to ignore what they knew. Things had changed, they had. People from my side of town were more likely to be seen in paisley and fringe and flared pants these days than starched collars and too-tight khaki pants and pastel-colored dresses. Tensions weren't ever-present. Things had _changed._ So why was I hesitating?

"That's not true," I whispered. "It's not true at all."

"Then why did it take you so long to answer?" Two-Bit asked. His voice was just too serious, and his eyes too concerned. Concerned for who or what, however, I wasn't sure.

"Because you even _asking_ a question like that must have stunned me. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, Two-Bit! You think that after everything we've been through…" I shook my head. My trailing off was well-timed, because Steve and Evie had made a hasty return.

"He's not there," Steve said quickly as they got in back. Two-Bit looked in the rearview mirror and raised an eyebrow.

"You sure? You were barely in there ten minutes!"

"We're sure," Steve assured him. Evie looked a bit stunned. "Just…just _fuck,_ man. My fuckin' tires…" Steve trailed off, shaking his head. Funny, how he was so attached to four rubber tubes. "Just…drop us off at Eve's place."

XXXXX

After we'd dropped off Steve and Evie, Two-Bit wordlessly continued driving until we ended up parked at an outlook, the same outlook where we'd sat on the top of his old truck together a year ago, looking out at the city. That was the same night he took me to the baseball diamond and taught me how to hit. It felt like ages ago.

Ages ago.

"Steve's gonna be fuckin' pissed 'til he replaces those tires," Two-Bit said, smearing a hand tiredly down his face. "Actually, he's prolly gonna be pissed anyway. So."

I glanced over at him. I felt a bit awkward around him for the first time in what felt like forever. "I guess that's a big deal."

Two-Bit looked at me, eyebrow raised. "Well. Yeah. It is. Shit like that costs money, Honey Bee."

I had to keep myself from rolling my eyes. "I know," I said softly. "I know that."

Two-Bit hummed. "Kid, I don't think you always do."

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

"Means that – and God knows I love ya – but ya got a silver spoon in your mouth." He smirked, but only because that seemed to be the only thing he could think to do. "I need you to understand somethin', Bridget." Two-Bit's voice was thick and low. I shouldn't lie – it would've been pretty attractive, if he didn't sound so sad. "You and I…we're still in almost completely different spheres. Tonight…I shouldn't've dragged ya along. We're _different_ , Honey Bee. For God's sakes, you're the goddamn prom queen. And lookit me! Just lookit _me_. Sometimes, grateful as I am for you…sometimes I don't get us."

My eyes started prickling, but I knew he was right. We were hard to understand at times, as a pair. "I don't always get us either," I whispered. "But that…that doesn't mean that I don't want to be with you."

"I don't deserve you, kid."

There was a horrible beat of silence. "Is that why you didn't come to the dance with me?"

Even though my voice was quiet, it seemed like a shock in the night as it cut through the silence. He and I stared at each other, and I couldn't breathe. Like if I did, the whole thing, whatever the whole thing was, would fall apart. It was such a trivial thing; it was just a school dance. It was just a plastic tiara. On the radio, Jackie DeShannon sang quietly into the silence, about how what the world needs now is love. I like this song; Two-Bit doesn't particularly care for it.

"What would you say if that was?"

I breathed in deeply and let my breath out slowly. "Why would you think that? Why would you _still_ think that?"

Two-Bit smiled self-deprecatingly. "Because it's true? This whole situation is still a lot for me to get my head around, even a year later."

"That doesn't mean we don't deserve each other."

Because it really didn't. But I don't know if I'd ever get him to understand that. We could be married and have children and have been together for years, and he would still probably be saying he didn't deserve me. But do people deserve each other? Do we earn each other? And based on what do we deserve each other?

"Well," he sighed. "Alright." Another pause, where he couldn't seem to quite look me in the eye. "Seems we ended up parked somewhere after all," Two-Bit said. Then he chuckled quietly. "I know what you said earlier, but – "

I didn't give him a chance to finish. I grabbed Two-Bit by the flannel and kissed him for all I was worth. ('Til my lips were swollen and numb.) When we finally broke it to come up for air, there was a moment where he just sat there with this adorably stunned look on his face. But then that wolfish grin, the one that means he wants to get up to no good, appeared.

"Stop saying you're not good enough," I said through grit teeth. "Because it's bullshit."

Oh, he was really revved up now. "My, _my,_ Bridget Marie Stevens," he breathed. "I love it when you get like this – _ooh!_ Baby!"

I shook my head. "Shut up."

I did it for him.

XXXXX

It was past three in the morning when he got me home. My feet were black from walking around town barefoot all night. Dress was still intact, which was good. My eyes were heavy, and if I were able to have it my way, I'd stay with this stupid boy all night; invite him up to my room so we could pass out together, his arms around me…but no. My father was probably in there, waiting for me, furious. Probably. Hopefully not. I was _so_ not in the mood to get chewed out.

" _Mmm_ ," Two-Bit groaned. "You're gonna catch hell from your old man. _I'm_ probably gonna catch hell from your old man." He poked my shoulder.

"What?"

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

Two-Bit gave me a knowing smile. "You know what for. About draggin' you all over tonight, and…well, I'm sorry I didn't go to the dance with you." He sorta cringed when he said that. I don't know if it was just because of his objection to prom itself, or the fact that he was feeling guilty. And I knew that apology said more than that, too. He was saying sorry for more.

"It's okay. I'm sorry, too," I whispered. I kissed his cheek, and then I smiled because I seem to be the only person on the planet who can make this boy blush.

"I really am sorry," he said, sounding a bit more miserable this time. I shook my head.

"Don't be. I'm not…I'm not mad. And I ended up having a really nice time tonight."

Two-Bit snorted. "Right," he sighed. His eyes caught mine. "I'll, uh, well…I'll see you soon?"

"You know you will," I grinned.

"Good. Oh! - Don't forget your shoes, honey."

xXx

 _Society_

 _News from_ _ **May 11**_ _ **th**_ _ **, 1968**_ _:_

 _Another Will Rogers prom night has come and gone! Plenty of gossip always surrounds the evening, of course, and yours truly is glad to deliver._

 _The night's festivities were held at Tulsa's Hilltop Country Club, a step up from last year's being held at the school gym. Someone must have called in a few favors! Alongside the already glamourous setting of a GORGEOUS spring evening in Oklahoma, the club was beautifully decorated with twinkling lights and bouquets generously donated by Lionel's Flowers. All the young gentlemen were very dapper. The colors of choice for dresses this year appeared to be yellow, pink, blue (all usually pastel), and lavender. It seems to this reporter that the ladies are opting not to make their hairdos quite so high this year…_

 _The big news of the night, of course, is the king and queen! Nominees for king were_ _ **Jerry Thompson**_ _,_ _ **George Washburn**_ _,_ _ **Randy Adderson**_ _, and_ _ **Samuel Wilson**_ _. Nominees for queen were_ _ **Sherri "Cherry" Valance**_ _,_ _ **Vickie Harper**_ _,_ _ **Martha Vandevender**_ _, and_ _ **Bridget Stevens**_ _. Mr. Washburn was crowned king, and Miss Stevens was crowned queen. The two made a lovely pair – even Mr. Washburn's date, Miss Harper, had to agree! Miss Stevens came alone with her friends, known around town as the Yentas, suitably named. The recently crowned king and queen shared a dance, of course, and then the rest of the evening continued on._

 _A quick profile on the King and Queen:_

 _Mr. Washburn is a lifelong citizen of Tulsa. A senior, he is captain of the basketball team and has committed to Indiana University to continue his playing career, and is planning to major in business. He has a 3.7 grade-point average, and belongs to the Fellowship of Christian Athletes and the National Honor Society. A certain Boy of the Year contender!_

 _Miss Stevens is a newcomer to Tulsa, having moved from New York City two summers ago. Also a senior with a 4.0 (!), in her two years at Will Rogers, she has been the lead in three school plays, a soloist in the choir, a cheerleader, and Snow Queen her junior year. She will be attending Julliard in the fall, looking to major in musical theatre. Miss Stevens certainly has the credentials to become Miss SENIOR!_

 _After the event, the crowd dispersed to several parties, of which I am sad to report I have no details to divulge my dear readers in. The ice cream parlor on the main drag offered free malts to whomever had a ticket from the evening, and many were seen taking advantage of this opportunity. The town was certainly abuzz well after the event had ended, and festivities lasted well into the evening._

 _HOWEVER, the biggest buzz of the night surrounds our newly crowned queen! Miss Stevens, who came to the dance with her friends – "stag", is what the kids call it – is the first young lady to be crowned without a date! But after the dance, Miss Stevens was seen – tiara and all – gallivanting around town with one Two-Bit Mathews, Steven Randle, and Evelyn Martin, the latter two of whom are a known couple. Miss Stevens and Mr. Mathews have also become something of a known commodity, so the question arises: Why, then, was Miss Stevens dateless? Alas, this reporter has no answer to THAT particular question._

 _The four were seen together almost all night, reportedly (from an anonymous source) after Mr. Randle found the tires on his car "slashed." Unfortunately, we still do not know the culprit. They were seen at several sites around town. It is reported that Miss Stevens was seen still in her dazzling pink formal, sleeves off the shoulder, but not wearing shoes. Miss Martin was reported as wearing a blue gown with long sleeves, and her shoes remained on._

 _This reporter has been keeping tabs on the two couples for some time now – as I do with many of Tulsa's up-and-coming pairs – and is still baffled by the fact that Miss Stevens and Mr. Mathews were NOT seen together until AFTER the dance! Trouble in paradise? Unlikely, as it is reported the two were seen alone together early Sunday morning. Mr. Mathews is a friend of one Darrel Curtis, Jr., former star quarterback and Boy of the Year, 1964; he also, after a mysterious two season absence, has returned to the baseball diamond, and leads the Ropers in hitting at .410, and is the starting catcher. We all would like to wish the entire team good luck in their game against their rival this Friday, and would like to congratulate Miss Stevens and Mr. Washburn on their achievement!_

xXx

I set down the paper and looked across the wooden kitchen table at Two-Bit, who had his head in his hand, half hiding a smile behind his palm. He and I were sitting together in my kitchen, midday-ish. The sun was still making its way up in the sky, but in May, it wasn't too hot yet. There were birds going on and on outside. I had just gotten up an hour ago, but a part of me wanted to be back in bed. There was a small part of me that wanted to invite my boyfriend up to my room and join me.

Mrs. Janine Johnston (it didn't exactly roll off the tongue) was at it again. She was always getting at me and my friends – who she and everyone else had lovingly dubbed "Yentas" – for gossip. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, she was in her forties! Didn't Janine Johnston have anything better to do with her time? Tulsa was hardly a small town, but things like this sure made it feel that way, knowing the entire town was going to know what I had gotten up to last night. She also used far too many exclamation points. I sighed, but I wasn't upset or anything; in fact, the whole situation was sort of hilarious. Two-Bit had come over after my father had left to go do something-or-other. (Dad hadn't actually been all that mad when I'd gotten in late. I'm a lucky girl.) There were dark circles under both of our eyes, both of us exhausted after last night's escapades, but when we'd opened up the paper to the society pages, he of course asked me to read aloud.

"She does quick work," he said, running a hand over his mouth.

"She does," I sighed, leaning forward a bit.

"Steve's gonna be pissed that they still haven't found out who slashed his tires."

"Oh, for sure."

"So – _are_ we having trouble in paradise?" He asked, and we both cracked up.

"They _wish_ ," I giggled. "Is" – I checked the paper again – "Four-ten good?"

Two-Bit looked a bit smug. "Four-ten is _very_ good."

"Well, congratulations. I wouldn't know. Can I get you anything? I can make breakfast."

Two-Bit pretended to check a watch he didn't have on. "It's eleven. Think I'm good. This chick used to go on about Darry sometimes," Two-Bit said, nodding to the paper. "Well, _Darrel Curtis, Junior_. Hell, he'll probably be all exasperated when he sees our names together again – bad publicity on his end. Got _me_ some good publicity though," he winked, and I rolled my eyes.

"If you can call this _good_ publicity, then I guess so."

"Aw, c'mon. You love it when people talk about us, and you know it."

I tried to scowl at him, tried to conjure up some anger. But he was right. I did like it, just a little bit. In the beginning, it had been strange and difficult, and people asked too many questions. Now they knew better not to (most of the time). "Don't you have baseball practice or something you should be doing right now? Doesn't your mother probably want to see you?"

"To your second question, no, I saw her this morning, and she's all caught up. To your first, _hell_ no, it's _Sunday_."

Two-Bit leaned forward on his forearms. That smile of his was back on his face. I already had the feeling I knew where he was going with this. I couldn't say I minded. Trouble in paradise? Not a chance. I don't know if this was paradise, but it was pretty damn close; this was trouble in the best sense of the word. Two-Bit reached a hand across the table and grabbed mine. My manicure was still perfectly intact – a _French_ manicure, I might add. He and I, we were on the same page here, and I'm not just talking about the newspaper. He whispered,

"Bridget, it's Sunday. _And your father's not home_."

XXXXX

 **AN: Bridget and Two-Bit are listening to Jackie DeShannon's 1965 song "What the World Needs Now is Love." And no, Two-Bit didn't pop Bridget's cherry when that scene faded to black. They're not** ** _quite_** **there yet at this point! And there's a little Easter egg in there for readers of This Is Melodrama's** ** _Green Light_** **and the fic she, lulusgardenfli, and I collaborate on,** ** _God Help the Girls._** **:)**

 **I will never be able to leave these two alone. Thanks for sticking with both me and them. 3**

 **Thank you for reading!**


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